Finding Libbie (22 page)

Jack awoke right before eight in the morning feeling like he’d been hit by a bus. His neck ached from lying awkwardly on the old sofa, and he had a splitting headache. He went down the hall to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face, then ran his hands through his hair to push it back. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his skin looked deathly pale.

I look as old as I feel today.

He called his boss to let him know he wouldn’t be at work today. He didn’t elaborate on what had happened, saying only that Libbie was sick. Jack knew how quickly rumors flew around this small town, and he didn’t want Libbie to be the subject of gossip.

Afterward, he went to the receptionist desk to get Libbie’s room number. When he quietly entered her room, she was sleeping. She was in a private room—he supposed the hospital staff knew to put her in one by now—so at least he didn’t have to worry about bothering anyone else. He sat down in the chair beside her bed and gently took her hand in his.

Looking down into her face, he saw dark circles under her eyes, and her skin was ashen. He lightly brushed her hair away from her face with his fingertips. He loved her so much. No matter what, she was his beautiful Libbie, and he’d do everything he could to care for her.

Libbie stirred and her eyelids fluttered. She looked up at Jack with a dazed expression.

“Jack?” she said hoarsely.

“I’m here, Libs,” he said softly. “I stayed all night. How do you feel?”

Libbie blinked several times and tried to swallow but coughed instead. “Can I have some water?”

Jack saw a jug of water on the nightstand, so he poured a little into a glass. He found the button to raise the bed up and helped Libbie into a sitting position before handing her the glass.

After taking a few sips, Libbie handed it back to him. “My throat feels so raw,” she said. Then she looked around her and back at Jack. “What happened? Why am I here? Did I have an accident?”

Her voice was so small, it broke Jack’s heart. “No, sweetie. You didn’t have an accident. I brought you here last night. You were passed out on the sofa, barely breathing. Do you remember anything from last night?”

Libbie gazed up at the ceiling. After a time, tears trickled down her cheeks. “I had gone shopping, and then went home. But their nasty words kept ringing in my ears. I tried not to drink anything, but I just wanted to make their words go away.”

Jack pulled the bottle of pills from his pocket. “What about these, Libbie?” he asked gently. “I found this bottle on the table, too. How many did you take?”

Libbie stared at the bottle in his hand and her tears came faster. “I’m sorry, Jack. I’m so sorry.”

Jack sat on the bed beside her and pulled her into his arms. “You don’t have to be sorry, Libs. Please don’t get upset. I’m worried about you. You can tell me anything. You know I’ll love you no matter what.”

Libbie pulled away and stared at him, her eyes small pools of tears. “I should have told you about the pills a long time ago. I didn’t want you to think badly of me. I didn’t want you to think I was like . . .” She faltered and raised her hands to cover her face.

“I’d never think badly of you, Libs. I love you. God, I love you so much. I was scared to death last night when I thought I might lose you.”

“I’m sorry, Jack. I’m so sorry.” Libbie’s voice was tiny, like a small child’s. Jack pulled her to him again. He wanted to reassure her that he meant what he said. He loved her deeply.

“I want to go home,” Libbie whispered into his ear. “I promise I’ll try harder to be perfect. I won’t take pills and I won’t drink anymore. Please, just take me home.”

Jack’s heart broke for her. She sounded so scared and sad. “As soon as the doctor will let you, I’ll take you home,” he said. He continued holding her, thinking about her pitiful words.
I promise I’ll try harder to be perfect.
He’d never wanted her to be anything other than who she was—his sweet Libbie. Had she thought he was unhappy with her?

After Libbie settled down a little, Jack pulled away and she sat back against her pillows. He found a box of tissues, and she wiped her eyes and nose.

“Libbie, I need to ask you something. Do you remember why you took the pills and drank so much last night? Were you upset with me? Did I do something wrong?”

Libbie closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. “It wasn’t you. It was me. I just had to wipe their words out of my head.”

“Whose words?” Jack asked.

Libbie shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

Jack took her hand in his. “Please don’t get upset, Libs, but I need to know. Did you take all those pills on purpose?” His voice cracked. “Did you try to kill yourself?”

Libbie’s eyes grew wide. “No. Oh, no, I wouldn’t do that. I couldn’t. It was an accident. It had to be. I just took a pill, and when I didn’t feel better, I took another. I didn’t mean to, Jack. I swear.”

Relief flooded over him. “I’m so glad.” He sat with her until she dozed again. None of what happened made sense to him, but he was relieved he hadn’t lost his Libbie.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Two days later, Libbie was sent home from the hospital with two prescriptions and orders to rest. Her own physician had come to visit her in the hospital and, after a long talk about how she felt, he’d prescribed an antidepressant and told her to continue with the Valium. “But no drinking alcohol,” he’d insisted. He’d diagnosed her with anxiety and depression and told her she should stop working at the library for now so she wouldn’t feel overwhelmed. Libbie was upset about having to quit her job, but she was determined to do what the doctor said. She truly wanted to feel well again.

Overdosed. That word caused cold chills to run up her spine. Libbie knew she hadn’t meant to overdose—she hadn’t tried to kill herself—but the anxiety she’d felt over Gwen’s words and seeing her mother’s condition had stretched her nerves to their limits. She’d wanted so badly to wipe away their words that she hadn’t been careful about the Valium. It had been an accident. But it scared Libbie that if she’d done it once, she might do it again.

Being diagnosed with depression had shocked Libbie. Yes, she knew she’d felt down at times, and she did experience anxiety often, but she hadn’t thought it was so bad as to be diagnosed as a condition. Didn’t everyone experience ups and downs with their emotions? It worried her that Jack would think less of her now that she’d been labeled as depressed. She was determined to prove that she was fine. She’d take the antidepressant and Valium as directed and prove she could control her emotions.

The first thing she did when she got back to the cottage was hug Spence. She’d missed the kitten and carried him all over the little home with her nearly all day. Bev had left food in the freezer and fridge so they could heat it up for dinner over the next week. She’d left a delicious pan of frosted brownies on the table, with a note saying that she hoped Libbie would feel better soon. Libbie’s heart warmed at the thought of Bev and Jack’s entire family. They were so kind to her. She felt lucky to have them as her family, too.

For the next two weeks, Libbie felt useless in her own home. Her father had sent Sandra over to help with the cleaning and laundry so Libbie could rest. Carol came to visit often—more than she had all winter—and Bev and Jan came to visit in rotation, too. Candy and Jackie also stopped by on a regular basis—something they hadn’t done since the accident. Libbie suspected that the visitor schedule had been orchestrated by Jack so she wouldn’t feel alone while he was at work. It made her feel that he didn’t trust her to be alone during the day. But she didn’t mention it to him. Even with her new medication, she felt fragile, like she could fall to pieces at any moment. The visits actually took her mind off how she felt.

April brought warmer weather, and soon the snow melted and the lake opened up to blue water again. Jack and Libbie began taking evening walks along the lakeshore and drives to the Dairy Queen for a treat or to the A&W for a burger. Jack promised Libbie they’d have a wonderful, peaceful summer at the cottage again this year, and then if they had enough money, they’d look for a house of their own in the fall. Libbie hoped they could. She no longer loved the cottage as she had that first summer. She was looking forward to a place of their own.

The first part of May, the girls next door said good-bye. They were moving back home to Minneapolis for the summer and weren’t sure where they’d be the next winter.

“We’re thinking of finishing our next two years at a school closer to home,” Candy said. “It’ll save money for us and our parents.”

Libbie waved good-bye as they drove off. Even though they hadn’t spent much time together since last October, she was going to miss them. Since she’d graduated high school, she’d done nothing but say good-bye to friends, and it made her sad.

By now, Larry had been gone for ten weeks. He was in a training camp in South Carolina, which seemed so far away to Libbie. Occasionally, they’d receive a one-page letter from him saying he was fine and surviving boot camp, but with no details. She’d sent him a photo of her and Spence in her last letter, and he remarked on how big the kitten had grown. Libbie was surprised at how much she missed Larry. She thought about him often and hoped he was doing well.

Summer was difficult for Libbie despite the nice weather and longer days. She tried, for Jack’s sake, to enjoy rides in the canoe, walks along the lake, or going to the outdoor movies in the park, but nothing helped to lift her mood. In fact, she felt nothing at all.
Dull
, that was the only word she could come up with to describe it. The days Jack worked were long and boring for her, and some days she didn’t have the energy to go outside and enjoy the weather. She’d sit inside, holding Spence, watching television and taking naps. But she always made sure to have something cooking for dinner by the time Jack came home. She didn’t want him to know how terrible she felt. She watched every word she said around him and pretended to be happy, even when she just wanted to crawl off to bed and sleep. She put on a good show, but it drained her. She was afraid of how he’d react if he knew how unhappy she was. What if Jack decided he’d had enough of her and left? Her whole reason for living would be gone.

And then maybe the thought of overdosing wouldn’t be so scary after all.

Jack knew Libbie was struggling despite the medication she was taking. Her eyes no longer sparkled, and it seemed as if she cared about nothing. When he’d suggest a fun outing to cheer her up, he could tell she was just pretending to be excited. That made him sadder than if she’d just told him no.

On their first anniversary, he surprised her with flowers and dinner out at the Lakeshore Inn, the restaurant they’d eaten in the night he had given her his class ring. Afterward, he took her to the same park they used to love going to, where the old tree hung over the water. Laughing, they took off their shoes and climbed out onto the branch, where they sat and watched the sunset, their feet skimming the cool water. It had been such an intimate moment, and Jack kissed her as the sun touched the lake, turning everything around them a soft orange. For a few hours, he felt like he had the old Libbie back, the carefree girl from high school. But the moment they returned to the cottage, her demeanor changed, making Jack feel as if there were a wall rising between them.

They rarely made love anymore. At night when they’d go to bed, Libbie rolled over and fell asleep quickly. Jack missed holding her in his arms. But he didn’t complain. The doctor had said it might take weeks before she felt like her old self again after starting the antidepressant. It had been three months, and still she seemed unhappy. He just wanted Libbie to feel good again, like the girl she used to be, for her sake more than for his.

On a Saturday in mid-June, there was a rapping on their cottage door. Jack and Libbie had been getting ready to run errands in town and neither expected visitors. When Jack opened the door, there stood Randall, smiling, with Abigail.

“Hello, Jack,” Randall said in a booming voice. “We have a surprise for you and Libbie. Can you come with us for a little while?”

Libbie had walked up beside Jack, slipping her hand around his arm and holding on tightly. She looked nervous to see her parents. Randall came in and hugged her close, and Jack saw her relax. He realized it was Abigail who intimidated her, and he didn’t have to wonder why. Abigail intimidated everyone. She stood stiffly on the front porch, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Jack noticed that Abigail looked even thinner and paler than when he’d seen her at Easter. She seemed different, too. Not as self-assured. It made him wonder all over again about what Gwen had said in the hospital after Libbie’s overdose.
She’s sensitive, just like our mother. She can’t face reality without booze and pills.
Those words had stuck with him all these months, and he wondered how true they were. Was Abigail an alcoholic? Is that why she looked so sickly? He’d broached the subject with Libbie a couple of times, but she’d turned away each time and said she didn’t want to talk about it. So he’d let it be.

Now, looking at the older woman, he put on a smile and said, “Hello, Mrs. Wilkens. Please, come in.”

Abigail seemed to tighten up even more, her mouth a thin line and her hands clutched together. “I’m fine right here,” she said. “Randall, shall we go?”

“Ah, yes, let’s. I can’t wait for the kids to see our surprise.”

They all got into Randall’s Cadillac, and he drove to the north road that led away from the lake. About a mile up the road, he turned right, and then right again, into a new housing development that had sprouted up about two years ago. Each house stood on an acre of land, and most of the lots had been sold and houses built on them. They were modest houses, but nice, and the yards were kept up well, too. Children were playing in yards and riding their bikes on the sidewalks. Randall drove down to the end of the street where it formed a cul-de-sac and stopped in front of a tan ranch house with brown trim and shutters. It had a large bay window in the front, a door with gold glass inserts, and an attached double garage.

Randall parked and stepped out of the car, going around to open Abigail’s door and help her out. Jack turned to Libbie, but she shrugged, looking as confused as he felt.

Soon they were all standing on the sidewalk in front of the house, staring at it.

“Well, what do you kids think?” Randall asked, smiling widely.

Jack wasn’t quite sure what to think, so he politely said, “It’s very nice.”

“Come on, let’s go inside,” Randall said. He wrapped one arm around Libbie’s shoulders and the other around Abigail’s, then walked up the sidewalk to the house. Jack followed.

Randall pulled a key out of his pants pocket and unlocked the door. He stood aside so the ladies could enter first, then waved Jack through. They all walked into the entryway.

Jack looked all around. There was a small glass chandelier hanging in the entryway and light hardwood flooring. A coat closet was on his left, and the living room ran the full length to the right. Gold shag carpeting and gold drapes decorated the large room. Randall led them through the living room, turning left into the connecting dining room, and then another left through an arched doorway into the kitchen. A bar-style pass-through between the kitchen and dining room stood to the right, with tall barstools on the dining room side. The kitchen had a light-gold tile floor, harvest-gold appliances, and dark wood cabinets. Everything was sparkling new.

Jack watched as Libbie gazed around her. Her eyes were shining with excitement. “Look, Jack. A dishwasher! Wouldn’t it be nice to have one? And everything is brand new.”

Jack nodded. It did look nice. And expensive.

Randall took them on a tour of the rest of the house, which included a laundry room, a master bedroom with attached bathroom, another smaller bedroom, and a guest bathroom. After circling back to the living room, Randall clapped his hands and asked, “What do you think?”

“It’s so cute,” Libbie said. “But why are you showing us this house? Is someone we know going to buy it?”

Randall grinned. “It’s already been purchased. I hope you love it, because this is your new home.”

Jack stared at Randall in disbelief, while Libbie squealed and ran over to hug her father.

“Really, Dad? Ours? But how? Did you buy it?”

Randall hugged her, obviously pleased to see his daughter so happy. “Yes, Libbie, really. It is yours. But don’t give me all the credit. It was your mother’s idea.”

Libbie turned to her mother who’d been standing quietly beside Randall, her arms stiff at her side. “It was your idea, Mom?”

Abigail nodded and gave a small smile that looked more like a grimace. “Yes, dear. I knew how unhappy you were living in that old cottage. Now you can live in a real house, where you’ll be warm all winter and have all the luxuries you deserve.”

Libbie hugged her mother. “Thank you, Mom. I love it.”

Abigail hugged her back stiffly.

Jack stood, speechless. He’d watched as Libbie’s eyes lit up with happiness, and he didn’t want to be the one to snuff it out. It had been so long since he’d seen her this excited. But he couldn’t let her parents buy them a house. And he knew there was no way he could afford a nice new house like this one, either.

Libbie ran over to Jack, her face beaming. “Don’t you love it, Jack?”

Jack took a deep breath to steel himself. “Yes, it’s very nice. But sweetie, I’m not sure we can afford this house.” He watched as her face fell and it tore at his heart.

“But you said we could look for a house this fall. Can’t we live here?”

Her voice was so sad, so pitiful, that Jack was at a loss as to how to answer. Randall came over and wrapped his arm around Libbie and smiled at Jack. “You don’t have to worry, Jack. We made the down payment for you, and the monthly payments are low. I knew you’d be too proud to let us buy you the house, but I’m sure you can easily afford the payments.”

“I’m not sure about that, sir,” Jack said. “This must be an expensive house.”

Randall brushed aside Jack’s concern with a wave of his hand. “Don’t be silly, son. It’s not bad at all. Let us do this for our Libbie and for you.”